


My Top Secretary

by ACatWhoWrites



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Office, Enthusiastic Consent, Hair-pulling, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Non-Consensual Kissing, Office Blow Jobs, Office Sex, Requited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-17
Updated: 2021-03-17
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:21:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,007
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29467182
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ACatWhoWrites/pseuds/ACatWhoWrites
Summary: Chanyeol is the boss, top dog. He's used to things going his way without much consideration, and it comes back to pinch him on the butt.
Relationships: Do Kyungsoo | D.O/Park Chanyeol
Comments: 5
Kudos: 59
Collections: Tender PCY Fest 2021





	My Top Secretary

**Author's Note:**

> prompt no.90
> 
> This was supposed to be like half the length it is. Whoops.

It’s a special sort of torture, pining after one’s boss.

Everyday, Kyungsoo begins his morning at home—feeding, watering, walking his dogs, feeding himself, preparing lunch for the day—and then takes a bus to work. The moment he’s on the bus, he’s on his phone to check the daily schedule and emails. Before he’s even at the office, he may have scheduled or rescheduled as many as three meetings for the next few days.

Once at work, he puts his lunch in the break room refrigerator, leaves this coat on the back of his desk chair, and goes straight for his boss’s office.

Park Chanyeol has a system. A place for everything, and everything in its place. Pen in the middle of the desk, between a name plaque and desk lamp, not touching the large decorative blotter with its smears of old ink stains. His desktop monitor remains angled towards the big ergonomic desk chair, centered with the wireless keyboard and the mouse just to its right.

And Kyungsoo across from him, standing or sitting before his desk.

Truthfully, the only reason anything stays in its place is due to Kyungsoo and the cleaning staff, but Chanyeol wants things kept a certain way, so they keep it that way. Other staff members—namely Baekhyun and Jongdae—like to move things _just_ out of place, to see if Chanyeol notices.

If he doesn’t, Kyungsoo does, and he’s scarier than the boss.

They’ve been friends since college, however. Baekhyun knows Chanyeol from even before then. It’s thanks to Baekhyun that Kyungsoo has his position with the company. While not what he envisioned himself doing after his service, he enjoys the organizational aspect and, to an extent, the quiet power. If Chanyeol isn’t around, Kyungsoo is second to approach.

The first time Chanyeol mentions how impressed he is with Kyungsoo’s effectiveness, Kyungsoo took it as a compliment and thanked him. Later, he realized that he looked forward to the praise and attention, the delighted laughter or the steely focus when they were alone or in a meeting.

And, even closer to thirty, Kyungsoo accepts he has a schoolboy crush.

Chanyeol is tall and handsome but also kind and diligent. He’s a warm person, and it’s both sad and amusing to see him with different women so often.

“I’ve said for years that he’s not straight,” Baekhyun says one afternoon, during lunch. “He was kinda pretty in high school; boys and girls liked him. Pretty sure he went out with at least one guy, probably hooked up with others, the hussy.”

“You’re one to talk,” Jongdae replies. His good-natured smile remains, even as he defends his home-made lunch from grabbing chopsticks.

“We can’t all have gorgeous, loving, and devoted wives, Dae. Some of us see a tall man and just fall on our backs. Right, Soo?”

Kyungsoo’s never had much of a preference. He rolls his eyes.

“We know how you feel about him, but dating coworkers never seems to go well, and Chanyeol is...” Jongdae and Baekhyun exchange looks, seeking the right word.

“Flighty?”

“Flighty and controlling. Once he’s not interested in something—or someone—he leaves it. He’s not a bad person,” Baekhyun quickly adds, a dutiful friend. “I just don’t want to see you hurt. Honestly, the best thing to get over him would be to see someone else. You’re a reasonably attractive guy; I know you can manage.”

“Oh gee, thanks.”

“ _What he means to say_ ,” Jongdae interjects, “is to be mindful. You’ve still gotta work with the guy. If you did start dating, it could open you up to criticism and raise questions of favoritism, and if you’d later break up...” Things could get needlessly complicated. Kyungsoo knows he can maintain professionalism, but he also acknowledges that there would definitely be some weird feelings and even potential backlash from the hypothetical ex.

He nods, pushing a grain of rice with a chopstick. “Yeah.” He sighs and shakes his head. “Relationships seemed so easy, when we were younger.”

“That’s only because we didn’t know any better.”

“You don’t have to give up your crush right away or anything, or even at all, but don’t close yourself off from other opportunities.” Baekhyun’s eyebrows rise, a smile spreading across his lips. “Didn’t you say your neighbor’s been hitting on you? Go out with him!”

“Hyung...”

“I’m serious! Just for fun or a free meal; try it out. You may be surprised.”

Nodding sagely, Jongdae adds, “My wife wasn’t my first choice. She had to earn my undying affection.”

“Didn’t take long. You were talking marriage within months.”

“I was playing hard to get.” Jongdae laughs.

Kyungsoo smiles and finishes eating, taking his Tupperware to the sink to wash. As he fills the sink with suds and water, his mind wanders, and he tunes out his friends’ talk about an upcoming video game.

His neighbor _is_ really nice, and he’s been not at all subtle about his interest in Kyungsoo. He knows they share interests in dogs and taste in music. Everything else is something to discover.

And it’s not like he owes his time off the clock to his boss. He can see whomever he wants and do whatever he wants without having to explain himself.

This niggling feeling of guilt is just stupid.

His neighbor is delighted when asked to lunch, and Kyungsoo enjoys the company and conversation. There was no spark or magnetic attraction or anything overwhelmingly romantic, and Kyungsoo’s fine with that. They may go out again; they may not. They may go out as friends, which is fine, too. With how schedule, most of Kyungsoo’s friends are also his coworkers. His neighbor is not.

So he’s feeling pretty optimistic about things overall, and he starts his work morning as usual, making it to the office right on time and walking into Chanyeol’s office with a mixed coffee before his boss’s computer has woken up.

“My favorite secretary! Hello,” Chanyeol chirps, accepting the coffee with a curious sniff. He sips it and sighs contentedly. “How was your weekend?”

“Pretty routine,” Kyungsoo replies, downloading a document from an email and sending it to the printer, “although I did have a nice date yesterday afternoon. Spent most of the time with my dogs; they loved it.”

“A date? With who?”

Kyungsoo pulls a paperclip from a stack of papers to rearrange them. His reply is light, dismissive, “A neighbor.”

“Is it serious?” Chanyeol knows he’s being nosy, and he hopes it comes off as simple conversation, but there’s a sensation in his chest, like his heart is dropping. At the same time, he feels his eye twitch.

“We just had lunch and talked about our pets and jobs.” The paperclip slips; Kyungsoo shifts it to sit securely and taps the papers on the bookshelf to make them sit together neatly. “To be honest, though, it’s none of your business.”

It’s really not, but logic works different in Chanyeol’s caveman brain, which is reminding him that he doesn’t like to share and to claim his territory. He leaves his chair and rounds his desk, crowding Kyungsoo against the door and blocking any escape. 

He kisses him.

Electricity runs down Chanyeol’s spine, then a fist strikes his gut, and he’s pushed away.

Red-faced and breathing heavily, Kyungsoo glares at him with such an enraged and heart-broken expression—Chanyeol is stunned silent. Then his secretary gathers his composure and stalks across the floor, chasing Chanyeol down until his legs hit his desk, and he sits, leaning back as he’s the one crowded.

“How _dare you_ kiss me, Park Chanyeol.” Kyungsoo punctuates his point with a finger jabbed at Chanyeol’s chest. “You _never_ force yourself onto someone—anyone at all—like that again, do I make myself clear? Pull a stunt like that again, and I will make sure you are charged with assault.” He throws the papers on the desk beside Chanyeol’s hip, spins on his heel, and leaves, door slamming behind him with a finality that settles heavily on Chanyeol’s shoulders.

Thank goodness the man didn’t look down, however, because Chanyeol has no explanation for the tent in his pants. He’s been yelled at before; he’s been threatened. Something about Kyungsoo directing all of his energy and attention towards him _excited_ him.

Which is totally strange, right? The man is his trusted and reliable secretary, the guy he can rely on for schedules and meetings and keeping his office and life organized. They’ve worked together for years and enjoy a casual working relationship. Go out for lunch or drinks now and then, usually with other coworkers or a client. 

Never has Chanyeol ever thought of Kyungsoo as desirable. Not to say he’s not; Kyungsoo is a very attractive man, for a man. Chanyeol has nothing against men. Women have just been easier and more familiar territory. They fall over themselves for him for his looks, voice, charm…

Kyungsoo doesn’t put up with his shit like the women he’s dated have, but it’s usually a fond exasperation and gentle but firm redirect.

This was like the guy was absolutely ready to drop-kick Chanyeol’s ass from the office to kingdom come. Would he deserve it? Definitely. What kind of animal just _grabs_ someone and kisses them? Geez, he really _did_ assault his secretary!

Chanyeol scoots off his desk, walking around it to sit on his comfortable desk chair and spin slowly back and forth, thinking. He needs to apologize. He needs to let Kyungsoo know that he is a valued and trusted employee—a friend, even. Friends don’t force themselves on one another, and Chanyeol is sorry.

But he is also very confused and curious as to why his dick stood up like a mail box flag. Was it just the kiss? Was it—as gross and awful as it makes him feel—pushing Kyungsoo around?

Or was it Kyungsoo pushing _him_ around, not physically touching him at all—except for that deserved suckerpunch—but engulfing him in such passionate energy that Chanyeol could only obey his nonverbal cues?

He tucks his fingers in his hair, curling them into fists. How can he possibly make it up to Kyungsoo?

Unaware of Chanyeol’s anguish, Kyungsoo paces the hall, unsure where to go or what to do. He’s seething and scared and unsure if he wants to punch a hole in the wall or cry in the men’s room. He ducks into the first open office and leans against the desk.

 _How dare he?_ Park Chanyeol—with all of his money, success, and women—attacks him. Of all people.

Why? 

And for what? Just for laughs? Just because he mentioned his date in passing?

He wants to hate him; he probably should, because there is never an excuse for just kissing someone so unexpectedly and uninvited. Kyungsoo is weak, though, and also wants to give him a chance to explain.

Curse his soft, squishy heart and its stupid crush.

If he can’t get a rational explanation and apology, he’ll just put in his resignation before being fired.

Because he did punch his boss and threaten to have him arrested… Both were deserved, but most employers frown on such behavior. Kyungsoo is too good at his job to be blacklisted from employment.

The light flips on, and Kyungsoo and Jongdae both jump at the unexpected appearance of the other. “Soo...what’s up? You’re waiting in the dark.”

“Sorry. I just needed a place to think before I get fired.”

Friendly smile washed away with concern, Jongdae drops his handful of files onto the desk. “Why are you being fired?”

“I don’t know for sure, yet, but I just punched Chanyeol for kissing me.”

Jongdae blinks rapidly, going through a slew of confused emotions before settling for shock. “He kissed you? Like, _intentionally_?”

“Intentionally and unexpectedly, so I hit him and said I’d have him arrested if he ever tried it again.”

“What the hell…?” Jongdae mutters. He throws his hands up. “I feel like hitting him myself, now! Why would he do that?!”

“Do what? Are taking a break already?” Baekhyun asks as he joins the duo.

Jongdae shakes his head and leans against the desk.

“I have no idea,” Kyungsoo says, replying to his question. To Baekhyun, he adds, “Chanyeol had asked how my weekend was, then he got upset and shoved me against the door.”

Baekhyun blinks, frowns, and narrows his eyes. “That makes no sense. I’ve known him a long time, and he’s always been pushy and entitled but _not_ like _that_!” He gently touches Kyungsoo’s elbow. “I’m so sorry, Kyungsoo… I don’t— What are you going to do?”

“I’m going to quit before he has a chance to fire me, but I’m working up the nerve to go back in there.”

“To punch him in the jaw? Because he deserves it. If you don’t, I will.” And odds are, Baekhyun would break it, too.

“You could just write a letter; I’d deliver it for you.,” Jongdae offers.

Kyungsoo shakes his head. “Something like this needs to be done in person.” He can type up a formal resignation letter later. Given the circumstances, he thinks they can skip the two week notice.

He stays busy on the floor helping other staff or working on his own computer. Anything to or from the boss’s office is taken by Baekhyun, who promises not to do or say anything but is bad at hiding his feelings. He leaves Chanyeol’s office chilly and silent.

Chanyeol doesn’t leave his office, that Kyungsoo notices, but he doesn’t stay at his own desk constantly. He hopes his boss ate something.

By the end of the day, they’re exhausted. Kyungsoo just wants to go home; Chanyeol is on edge.

“Do you want us to wait for you?” Jongdae asks as he and Baekhyun get ready to leave.

“I’ll be alright. If you see something about a man falling from a window on the new, know it was an accident and not at all planned.” He sits on his desk as the office clears out, a handful of stragglers trying to finish some last-minute tasks before yawning and saying goodnight.

Looking away from the elevator and letting his arm fall back to his lap, Kyungsoo faces Chanyeol’s office. The light is still on; he sees a shadow moving.

On the other side of the door, Chanyeol paces the floor and rehearses a speech to himself:

“’Kyungsoo, I want to apologize. I just— I’m used to always getting my way, and I’ve always been kind of possessive-protective over people know, my friends, family, and some staff. It’s no excuse for forcing myself on you like that, and I am _sorry_. I lost my head. If you want to quit, I will write you the best recommendation to any company you want, but if you could give me a chance...’ to grovel for forgiveness at being such an ass.” Chanyeol rubs a hand through his hair, messing it up before combing it back again.

He crossed a line. Multiple lines, even, and he wants to fix it but doesn’t know how. As a kid, it was so easy to hurt someone, say sorry, share a snack, and be friends.

Adults have too many emotions. Chanyeol hates them all right now. He barely got any work done, distracted and aimless as a bird as he moved from his desk to the sofa to the window to the door and back again.

Someone knocks on his door, and he worries for a moment that it’s HR or one of Kyungsoo’s friends from the office ready to hang him from his window by his shoelaces—

—but it’s Kyungsoo. He looks up at Chanyeol coolly, unreadable except for the small frown pinching his full lips.

“Kyungsoo… Come in.” Rubbing the back of his neck, he automatically closes the door behind the secretary and panics for a moment, wondering if he should open it again.

“I’m very disappointed, Chanyeol.”

Floodgates open, and words just start spilling out of Chanyeol’s mouth. “I understand, and I’m sorry. I don’t really know how to give up control or how to share, and I know you’re not a toy; you’re a person. A living, breathing human with freewill and the right to do whatever or whoever you want. I’ve just always had to be the strong boss, and it just seeped into everything, even outside of work.

“This is very backwards and confusing, and I wish I could’ve figured my shit out sooner, before I hurt you, but...” He’s rambling, and he knows it. If he just says everything, he hopes Kyungsoo can weed through it like he always does and pick out the important parts. “If you could ever forgive me, I’d like to make it up to you now and for however long you’ll have me.”

Surprisingly, Kyungsoo chuckles. He’s hiding it behind his hand, and his eyebrows are still frowning, but there was a definite snort. “You sound like you’re proposing.”

Well, in the future, Chanyeol would not mind getting married and having a family of his own.

“I was thinking more like dinner or lunch or something less legally committed. I just— I don’t know _why_ I did what I did; I was just frustrated? Or jealous... And I didn’t know that I have been all along.” He holds out his hands, a gesture of pleading. “You’ve always been with me, pretty much since you were hired, and I rely on you so much. I dunno if you know that—”

“I know,” Kyungsoo acknowledges flatly.

“I’m not used to sharing anything.” Friends, toys, responsibilities... He has to keep them all for myself. No one else can hurt or break them, then; no one else to blame. That mindset totally and marvelously backfired on him today. “And I _know_ you are your own person with your own life and wants and interests outside of me—m-my office, but...” Chanyeol’s excuses and explanations peter out unimpressively; he’s talking himself in circles and knows it.

“I’m just sorry,” he finishes lamely. “It was inexcusable.”

The engraved desk clock ticks, punctuating passing seconds. A notification light on Chanyeol’s phone blinks to call attention to it, but it can wait.

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course I meant it. I’m sorry; I really didn’t mean to hurt you.”

Kyungsoo shakes his head, expression unreadable. “Did you mean it, when you kissed me? Or could it have been anyone?” Chanyeol’s track record of dates is impressive. Since high school, he’s dated, but expectations have lessened as he matured, and most people he’s dated lately have only been seen once and even then not always in good lighting.

But he's seen in Kyungsoo in just about every lighting, and it's always a good look.

He nods. “I did.”

Kyungsoo unbuttons his cuffs, rolling the sleeves neatly above his elbows. Chanyeol's always admired the firm, unassuming strength of his arms. “Do you need to be anywhere?”

“Huh? No, not really.”

Good. They should be the only ones left on the floor. A cleaning crew starts from the top floor and works their way down about the same time staff leaves. “Are you willing to listen to me and do what I say?”

Chanyeol scratches his ear lobe and nods. He's used to being advised by his secretary; not sure why now will be any different.

“Sit.” Chanyeol’s legs shake, but he sits on his chair with his arms perfectly placed on the armrests. “I want you to sit very still… Can you do that?”

“I can try, but no promises.” He fidgets right away, stilling under Kyungsoo’s heavy look.

No one can blame him for jumping when deft fingers undo his belt and yank it from his belt loops with a snap. Laughing nervously, he’s about to ask why Kyungsoo needs his belt, when the man removes his own, as well.

Chanyeol is completely mystified, until Kyungsoo takes either of his arms, replaces them on the armrests of his chair and straps them down with the belts.

“Just in case. If it starts to hurt, or you want to stop at any time: Say so. Just tell, and I'll stop and untie you.” Kyungsoo straightens and walks around the chair, spinning Chanyeol away from the desk but stopping behind him with his hands on Chanyeol’s shoulders, so they’re both facing the window and city skyline. “Comfy?”

Chanyeol coughs, eager imagination forming a frog in his throat. “Oh, sure.” 

“Some immediate ground rules: Never assume. Use your words and ask for permission or clarification. I value consent, and I love being asked to fuck,” he adds, just over Chanyeol’s ear.

“But for now, you will look, not touch. Do you understand?”

Chanyeol nods, watching Kyungsoo’s reflection. He flinches when fingers gently skate over his throat. Right; his words. “Yes.” A shiver shakes his chest when short fingernails run down his neck from behind his ears, reaching out in front of him and crossing at the elbow, pulling Chanyeol back against the chair and Kyungsoo’s chest. 

“Very good.” Kyungsoo murmurs, kissing his cheek. "Now, I want you to relax. It's just us. This isn't work. You don't need to be in charge and on top of everything. Give it all up to me. I'll handle everything and make you feel good."

Dropping his arms, Kyungsoo unbuttons Chanyeol’s dress shirt and leaves it open down to his waist, leaving the rest and skipping down to the button of his pants.

Rather than getting right to it, Kyungsoo teases him, fondling his groin through his underwear. If he'd just reach under the waistband or rip Chanyeol's pants and underwear off completely, Chanyeol would be a lot more comfortable and much less itchy with static energy and arousal.

There's no way for him to ask for release without whining, and Chanyeol just knows that even if his voice wouldn't break like a hormonal teenager's, Kyungsoo would not do what he wants.

Which is the entire point. Not everything is about Chanyeol. The whole reason for this after-work rendezvous is a metaphor.

He still can't help himself. “Come on...”

Kyungsoo hums, watching Chanyeol's impatient reflection as he tries to shimmy as subtly as possible for more attention. “Did you say something?”

“No.” Chanyeol shakes his head, rolling it to his shoulder. He has a nice, long neck. Tendons stretch beneath the flesh, forming little valleys that fill with shadow. The cartilage forming his Adam's apple is thick, giving the appearance of two subtle protrusions from his throat rather than the typical one.

It's charming, and Kyungsoo likes the way it moves beneath his fingers when Chanyeol shivers.

“You have a very pretty neck, Chanyeol.”

Distracted by the fingernails lightly skating over his throat and the other hand kneading his meat, Chanyeol can only breathe a vague acknowledgment.

Fingers flatten over his neck. “Have you ever been choked before?”

“...No.”

“Would you like to try?”

It's good to try new things. Chanyeol trusts Kyungsoo with literally everything else, why not his life? What's the worst that could happen?

“Sure.”

When Kyungsoo tightens the tie around Chanyeol’s throat, holding the tail with his fingers while inching the knot up with his thumb and forefinger, Chanyeol holds his breath and hears his heartbeat in his ears. He can feel it in his forehead, a dull throbbing like when he stands up too fast.

He clutches the armrest and breathes shakily when the pressure is gone. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah...” Chanyeol leans into the kiss against his temple and sighs.

“Sorry, not everyone is into that.”

Chuckling dryly, Chanyeol licks his lips. “Is this all an elaborate method to kill me? Bump me off before you get me off?”

“You’re doing really well, except for the commentary.” Kyungsoo pulls the knot of the tie down, loosening it entirely. He leans over Chanyeol more, reaching for his pants and slipping a hand beneath his underwear.

Usually, in Chanyeol’s broad experience, a handjob is given by someone facing him or maybe sitting next to him, not usually someone behind him.

But it’s not bad. Not bad at all.

He’s hyper-aware of Kyungsoo, feeling his body heat and smelling his aftershave or cologne. Chanyeol tilts his head to his shoulder, and Kyungsoo nuzzles his neck, leaving harmless bites and featherlight trails of kisses. He offers praise and compliments, wording melting over Chanyeol's skin.

Kyungsoo doesn’t keep a constant pace, noticing how Chanyeol squirms or breathes with each pull or drag of his hand, sometimes just his fingers. He flattens his palm over the head, rocking over it just to reach back all the way to the base.

When Chanyeol’s hips jerk, Kyungsoo removes his hand entirely. “Hold still,” he chides.

Chanyeol groans. “You’re killing me!” He knew it.

Fingers scratch over his scalp and grip his hair. Goosebumps erupt across his arms. Precum saturates the front of his underwear.

“Will you hold still for me?” Chanyeol nods, muttering a breathy “yes,” and Kyungsoo releases his hair. “Thank you.

“Now,” he says conversationally, “do you want me to blow you?”

“ _God_ , yes!” Enthusiastic consent. The best kind. 

Kyungsoo turns the chair; Chanyeol lifts his feet, so they don't drag, and gives ample room between his legs for Kyungsoo to kneel in.

Maybe he's a bit more eager than he let on, because this is kind of a wet dream of Kyungsoo's ever since pining after his boss, but he wastes no time in pulling Chanyeol's dick through the fly of his underwear. A couple languid licks, a kiss, and he relaxes his jaw to take in as much as he can at once.

Chanyeol slouches, spreading his legs more, but Kyungsoo catches his knees and ignores the frustrated groan.

He can’t even watch Kyungsoo anymore. No matter how much he wants to, because seeing him and feeling him are so much better than any fantasy playing out in his head, he just knows that if there’s a visual to the sensation of hands and lips on him that he’ll be gone then and there.

And he wants this to last for as long as he can.

At the same time, he just wants to finish and be done with it, so that building tension and static creeping through his legs goes away.

Fingers squeeze around him as Kyungsoo says, “Cum in my mouth,” voice low and a little scratchy.

Chanyeol doesn’t need more invitation, a jolt like lightning shooting up his spine when his cock is enveloped and swallowed. His muscles lock and spasm; if Kyungsoo didn’t have a hold on his legs, they would’ve snapped around his ears like a shy clamshell.

There’s a drawn-out sound somewhere between a moan and a scream; Chanyeol vaguely acknowledges that it’s him.

Once the white fades to stars and his body relaxes, he looks around his office gleaming in its new light from his glow. Kyungsoo is on his feet, wiping his mouth with a balled up tissue. Noticing the hazy gaze, he leans over Chanyeol, hands gentle on his freed wrists, and kisses the corner of his mouth.

“How do you feel?”

“Like a squid.” Kyungsoo looks at him, eyebrow raised. “Limp,” Chanyeol elaborates. “And I don’t just mean my dick.” He laughs, admiring the shape of Kyungsoo’s mouth when he laughs; he’s always thought it was cute.

As he coils the belts neatly around themselves, Kyungsoo says, “Sorry for being kind of rough with you.” Personal preference.

“Honestly, I have no complaints.” He had no idea he was into it. There were a couple of casual, one-time hookups who got a little more freaky, but it was nothing he sought out or explored. Now he feels as though he’s missed out.

Knocking on the door breaks the moment. Kyungsoo spins Chanyeol around so he can fasten his pants and make himself presentable and then opens the door, standing in the doorway. The cleaning lady peers around him and up at him curiously.

“I heard a strange noise, like a shout. Is everything alright?”

“Yes. Mr. Park hit his knee on his desk.”

“Oh, dear...”

“He's alright. We’ll be leaving soon.” She bows and leaves, wishing them both a good night. Kyungsoo waits until she returns to her cart of supplies, then closes the door. “Are you presentable?”

“I can't find my tie, but—oh, here it is.” Chanyeol picks it up from where it had fallen beneath his chair, wrapping it around his hand before slipping it into his pocket. “So... Can I give you a ride home?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

Chanyeol follows him from the office, flipping the light switch as he passes. “Pick you up in the morning?”

“If you'd like.”

“Would _you_ like? I can't promise to change my entire attitude overnight, but I'm going to try. For you.”

“You don't have to change anything for me.” Kyungsoo ducks into the break room for his dishes. “Change for yourself. But to answer your question,” he adds somewhat shyly, “I would appreciate you picking me up in the morning.”

“We could get breakfast?”

"Is this you asking me out?" At Chanyeol's nervous nod, he adds, "Use your words, Chanyeol."

"Yes." He doesn't remember it being so hard to ask anyone out before, not in a long time, anyway.

"Thank you, and I accept." Kyungsoo hides his elation well, biting back his smile to something more modest. The elevator hums to their floor, opening with a ding. “You don't wake up early enough to have the time for breakfast, though,” he critiques.

“I'm the boss. I can be late if I want. And because I'm nice, I'll only give you a warning.” Chanyeol jumps as his buttcheek is pinched. “Hey! Mr. Consent, do I need to call HR?”

Kyungsoo dips his hand into the back pocket of Chanyeol's slacks with a cheeky smile. “If you don't like it, tell me to stop.”

Chanyeol bites his lip and sighs, saying nothing, and punches the button for the ground floor.

Kyungsoo as his secretary is a special sort of torture.

**Author's Note:**

> I did my best. I was a little iffy joining this fest with this prompt because it is not my forte at all, but it (namely the tying up, hair-pulling, and choking part of the prompt) inspired me? And boy, did I struggle...


End file.
